Their ruler chose morning purposefully to show that they feared not any resistance and to compound the suffering. Suffering is short lived if your victim is sound asleep. It was the morn following the all Hallows Eve celebration that they were sent, appearing just after dawn. The church goers were the first to see them, the pious ones, the ones who had stayed up half the night for a pagan celebration but rose early for the dawn ceremony. Those were the ones they were after, the hypocritical, the sinners who thought they were better than thou. Perhaps it was the devil that sent them, but maybe it was the gods who grew disgusted with the faithlessness of their followers. It could have been the land itself that fulfilled the old prophecy which promised that if its inhabitants were evil, truly evil, demons would be sent to destroy the villages and everyone in them. Then the cycle would begin anew just as it had time in and time out.
Their dark wings were a stark contrast again the brilliant pink skyline, soft and serene like it was still half asleep. From afar they were but black wings carrying balls of fire marring the perfection of the new day, a dozen of them give or take. As they descended upon Harthran however it was plain to see that they were much, much more.
Fennix was half asleep in her claustrophobic cell, body curled up as there wasn't even enough room to stretch her short legs, when the screaming began. When it first reached her ears she wasn't terribly concerned, screaming was pretty commonplace, along with bodies being hung at the drop of a hat. But it continued and came in endless waves and high pitches from women and men alike and her blood ran cold. Fennix leapt up, stumbling a bit on sleepy legs, and pressed herself against the bars to see out the door of their dilapidated jail. The cells had a perfect view of the town square and the gallows, purposefully she assumed for a little extra torture.
Her heart stopped dead when she first caught a glimpse of them and the breath hitched in her chest. They were fantastic and horrifying, yet that was far too simplistic, with a wing spread that must have been four feet wide if they were an inch. Within a minute they littered the streets of tiny Harthran, swooping down to speckle the land with their darkness and lighting it up again with the fireballs that spewed from their palms. With them the creatures brought chaos, no more than that, there were chaos, almost as if it was in their blood. Citizens were running and screaming and with no hesitation on their parts the bloodbath began in earnest. Fennix's mouth dropped open but no sound was coming forth, she tried to force herself to turn away but couldn't, unable to tear her eyes from the shreds of humanity defiling the streets. No description could do justice to the gruesome spectacle she witnessed that day as they swarmed her neighbors and ripped them apart like flimsy pieces of paper. It was the only day she thanked the gods for having no friends or family left. Defiling her ears were their animalistic growls and the shrieks of the dying, just resounding over and over, louder still when she covered her ears with shaking hands. Most of the Harthranians were armed, it was just part of life there, but mortal weapons seemed to inflict little to no damage on the beasts. Even Trent, who wielded his meticulously sharpened double sided ax fell within a minute, two at most. Men and women were running the streets like mad, some bloody, some limbless, chased by unearthly tall creatures. It was like a live depiction of the pages from their church books, something they had all assumed was only meant to frighten them. The gods surely must have sent the creatures and nothing would ever be the same.
One such ghastly beast tackled a man, Harold the Horrible they had called him, not thirty feet from where Fennix stood. He went down with a deep throaty yell that ended in a gurgle and then Harold moved no more. That's when Fennix first caught sight of their haunting red glowing eyes so intense that they seemed to reach right down into her soul. Its eyes flicked up to her for just the briefest of moments before plucking Harold's head from his neck and tossing it carelessly over its shoulder. The eyes flicked up to her again and the creature grinned, it could feel her fear. Bored with its corpse the winged killer set its sights on Fennix and was suddenly stalking in her direction. Fennix scurried away from the bars to the back wall of her cell, trampling the meager bedroll in the process. There was nowhere to hide, all she could do was listen to the screams of agony and await her turn which was coming on swift feet.
And it was her turn, there was no mistaking the feral gleam in its eye, the purposeful gait. The creature stormed into the jail and up to her cell, swatting the small wooden table out of its path like a gnat, face dark and intent. With a slight grunt of satisfaction it grabbed the iron barred door and tore it free with just a tad more effort that it took to dislodge Harold's head. Their eyes locked as it let the door drop, jarring her senses, and Fennix trembled with a terror she'd never known the likes of. The demon had to turn itself just to fit its wings into the cell and closed in on the small woman, his massive body stopping less than a foot away. It held her tearful gaze, a devilish grin playing over its lips, loving every moment of her fear, thriving off of it. Though the creature was fearsome beyond words, up close it wasn't quite what Fennix had expected. Take away the wings, the spiraling black horns that stood erect just behind its hairline and the red eyes and it - He - looked like an ordinary man. He wasn't hunched over or grotesquely deformed as the schools books had depicted, and no jagged teeth protruding from his mouth. He had short, spiky black hair and was dressed head to toe in black, wings protruding from the back of his ankle length jacket.
Wasting no time he held his palm out towards her and while Fennix watched in abject horror as it began to glow, she knew she was going to die. Not just die, die in a far worse fashion than she had already been scheduled for, she was going to be burnt to death and that would last far longer than a neck snap. The glow began churning and deepening into a dark, molten red which began spitting flames that nipped at her face. The demon brought his palm closer and closer until it was mere inches from her face and she could feel the intense heat pouring off of it. Fennix's eyes teared up even more and squinted from the intensity but try as she might she couldn't look away. His dark, bony wings came forward and semi-circled themselves around Fennix until they hit the wall, shrouding her in darkness, causing her heart to thump madly. Its eyes studied her reactions intently, head cocked to the side as if wondering over them, while she wondered in dread when death was going to happen and how badly it was going to hurt.
Despite her stubbornness and the fierce words she'd spoken about not being afraid of death when they'd jailed Fennix, she began weeping pitifully. She had never really wanted to die, gods she shouldn't have even been jailed, it was all madness. And then quite suddenly and unexpectedly he closed his palm, squelching the fire.
"No cry." he ordered in a deep, raspy voice and pulled her chin back up to look him in the eye. "No cry."
Was it taking pity on her? Fennix was completely blindsided, she didn't even know how to react, was it a trick? Was it playing with her?
"Ignatius." he continued, pointing to his broad chest.
She couldn't comprehend the word Ignatius for a long frenzied moment but finally realized that he was telling her his name...but why? Whatever the reason Fennix was not going to waste time by questioning his motives and possibly angering him.
"Fennix." she whispered, trying in vain to stop the tears, and pointed to her own chest.
Ignatius nodded and began speaking excitedly in a language she didn't understand, assumedly explaining something. She shook her head slowly to signify she didn't comprehend, brow scrunched in concern. Had he perhaps thought her useful and would change his mind when he realized she didn't speak his language? But then came one word that she did comprehend.
"Bird." he declared, pointing at Fennix.
She blinked in a complete stupor, it understood her language?
"Yes." she agreed slowly. "It means child of the Phoenix." Her mother had described her father, whom she'd never known, as a Phoenix. He flew in hot and intense, loved with a burning passion and then flew away, never to be seen again.
The demon nodded as if he understood.
"Bird sing."